Perfect Love

by Trina Lane

  Logan’s head swam. He was adrift in a sea of thoughts and emotions. The only thing serving as anchor was Clay’s touch. He spun Clay around, and their bodies mimicked the freefall of his mind until cushioned by the mattress. Clay expelled a harsh breath as Logan’s weight collided on top of him. Logan gripped Clay underneath his arms and used his leverage to arrange their position lengthwise on the bed.

  “Jesus, Logan. I’m not your rag doll,” Clay cursed before resuming their kiss.

  Logan forcibly halted the response steamrolling through his system. Clay lay beneath him. His lips were swollen from their kisses, his eyes cloudy from desire, and beneath Logan’s hand, Clay’s heart raced as if he were a thoroughbred at Churchill Downs. This man’s heart belonged to him. Clay’s kiss warmed his blood, and his touch healed Logan’s soul.

  Without Clay, Logan would have slipped into nothingness after his discharge. He’d come so close to losing himself within the pity and pain. Only with Clay’s support had he had the courage to fight against the anxiety, terror and guilt. Only in Clay’s arms had he truly come home again.

  “Not a rag doll, no. But definitely mine. Of that you can be absolutely certain.”

  Clay wrapped his hand around Logan’s neck and pulled him close so their foreheads nearly touched. “I’ve been yours for twenty years, Logan. All you had to do was claim me.”

  Logan breath stalled in his lungs. He knew Clay spoke of not only when he’d run away, but the years before as well. He slid off Clay’s body and lay next to him. They turned on their sides to face each other. Logan scrunched up his face as the microphones of his processors scraped across the pillow. He propped his head up on one hand and rested the other on Clay’s hip.

  “I guess it’s time to talk about what was going on in my head back then.”

  “You know I’ll listen, if you wanna talk. But I don’t need to hear it.”

  “I think I need to say it. I’ve talked a lot about my childhood and its effects with others. First, the Army psychologist then Matt, but I’ve never told you the whole story.” He caressed the side of Clay’s face. The rasp of his unshaven face scrapped across his palm. “The one person who means the most knows the least, and that’s not right.”

  “Would it help if I told you what I do know, and you can fill in the blanks?”

  Logan shrugged. He didn’t know if anything would make this easier. Maybe if he just started from the beginning…

  “My dad was one of those men who ruled the roost. Mom was very much under his thumb, and as her extension, so was I. He loved us, or so he said, but I always knew our family was different from other kids in my class. Their fathers would come to the games or school plays and cheer them on or take them out for pizza. If he showed up at all, mine would nod or shake his head depending on the outcome, turn his back and wait for me in the car. The other started when I was about eight. My dad came in one night after I’d been sent to bed. He kissed me on the forehead. I remember being shocked at first. Dad had never kissed me. Up to that point, I couldn’t even remember him giving me a hug. It made me feel special; it made me feel loved. I remember thinking ‘finally’. Everything was going to be okay. I would have a dad like the other kids. Each night that week, I got a kiss, and it was the best week of my life.

  “Then the next week, his kiss landed on my lips. When I asked why, he told me it was because he loved me. He wanted to show his love. So I thought okay. He kissed mom all the time, and they loved each other, so it was no big deal. Things started to get a little weird after that. I would get out of the bath, and dad would be there instead of mom. Looking back on it now, I can recognise the look in his eyes as something unhealthy, but back then… The first time he held me I cried. Here I was getting my first hug from my father, and instead of being elated, I was sad. I didn’t understand why. Why would I fear his touch?

  “Tears weren’t allowed in our house. I can’t tell you how many times I heard ‘Tears are a sign of weakness. I will not allow my boy to be weak. There will be no tears in this house.’ I did my best to hide them, but I knew he saw. Instead of the reprimand I expected, he pulled me onto his lap. I froze. He started to touch and I tried to scramble away, but he held me down. Twice in one night, I’d broken a rule. ‘You do not fight back, you do not disagree, you do not show anger.’” Logan paused, the memories of that night and so many others that followed fed through his brain as if they were a reel of film. “I was ten the first time he…he…”

  Clay’s hand landed on his hip and Logan used the touch as a centre. He wouldn’t allow himself to slip further into the darkness.

  “When social services came, my mom disavowed any knowledge of what had been happening. But I knew she lied. You can’t live in a house of three and have no idea. At that point, almost six years had passed. She refused to go against my dad, and they packed me up. I floated between temporary homes while the trial ran its course. Some were good; some not so much. Typically, I was shipped off after a couple of weeks when the family got tired of my silent act. When I landed in the Shelby’s, I had no expectations of anything changing. Then I met you.”

  For the first time since he started the tale, Logan looked into Clay’s eyes. They had darkened, and Logan saw the riot of emotions swirling in their grey depths. Clay’s eyes so often reminded him of thunderstorm clouds, the intensity brewing before the atmosphere broke, the snap and crackle as they unleashed their awesome power and finally the calm after the storm. When they made love, Logan used Clay’s eyes as a barometer. Without being able to hear, Logan used every available means to judge where Clay was during the experience. The energy in Clay’s eyes consistently told Logan all he needed to know.

  He dragged Clay across the bed so only inches separated them and gave him a kiss.

  “The first day, you came skidding into the Shelby’s kitchen in your socks with your backpack still slung over your shoulder. Carol had just placed a plate of cookies and milk in front of me. You snagged one off the plate, and she yelled at you. The biggest smile I’d ever seen on another human being came across your face, and you said―”

  “Brothers always share,” Clay finished.

  Logan nodded. “Your smile unlocked something inside me that day. Something I’d forgotten. I remembered what it meant to be a kid, and the deadly duo was born,” Logan said, smiling.

  “The two of us came to the Shelby’s with demons on our backs. In my case, my dad mostly forgot or ignored my existence after my mom split. The only time he addressed me was when he ordered me to go get him some more Jack or hit me when I got in his way while he had his drunk on. The SS were called when I passed out at school during gym class because I hadn’t eaten in a few days. I was lucky. The Shelby’s was the first house I was placed in. When you came along, I figured my prayers had been answered. Not only had fate brought me a brother, but a best friend.”

  “When did it change for you?”

  “Nothing changed, Logan. It just deepened. I started looking forward to your smiles and your touches, no matter how innocent. I started dreaming of something more, but because of where you’d come from, I pretty much knew it’d never happen. When you ran, I thought my confession had turned you against me. I thought you saw me as your father.”

  “No, Clay, I ran because…because you said we could never be together. I thought you had caught on to my feelings and were too disgusted by my past to ever want what was left of me.” Logan saw the hurt and confusion in Clay’s eyes. “In my mind, the most logical solution was escape.”

  “I thought you said you ran because you weren’t ready to deal with having a sexual relationship?”

  “That’s also true. What can I say? I was a bit screwed up.”

  “I need you to know I have never placed the blame for your father’s sickness on you. You always have been and always will be the brother of my heart. Now, you’re my lover and partner. Whatever demons we face in the future will be with a united front. Neither of us will be alone ever again.”

&
nbsp; Logan’s head started to hurt. It seemed his brain was more out of shape than he’d thought. When Erin had told him earlier that he might want to take off the processors for a few hours, he’d figured she was nuts. Why would he want to take away the sounds he’d prayed for? But now, he felt his pulse in the back of his head and wanted nothing more than to close out the world for a little while.

  Clay smoothed his hand over Logan’s head. “You’re hurting, aren’t you? Why don’t you take them off for a little while and rest? It’s been a big day.”

  Logan nodded and smiled as Clay slid off the bed then grabbed the cases for his processors. Clay set them on the nightstand then disappeared into the bathroom. Logan lay back with his eyes closed.

  A few moments later, the film of light behind his eyelids darkened. Clay’s hand landed on his shoulder, and he opened his eyes to find the curtains over the window shut. Clay stood beside him with a glass of water and two tablets in his palm. Logan took the painkillers and relaxed against the pillows. Clay crawled onto the bed behind him and gathered him close. Clay’s hand rested above his heart, and a soft kiss landed on the back of his neck. Slowly, his consciousness slipped away, and as he crossed over into the oblivion of sleep, a smile curved over his lips.

  Chapter Eight

  Clay tilted back his head and inhaled the fragrant air of the first warm spring day. Around him Magnolia trees bloomed up and down Commonwealth Avenue. The crème and raspberry colours were a perfect foil for the brownstones lining the street in the Back Bay neighbourhood.

  He welcomed the change in seasons with open arms. It had been a long winter, and he was so ready for sunlight. He wanted run without dirty snow slush splashing his sneakers, and he wanted to spend nights down on the waterfront eating ice cream cones, laughing at Logan’s lewd antics as he licked the cool treat.

  Logan had recently return from another mapping session with Erin and seemed to be responding to the changes in his processor settings quite well. It was amazing how far he’d come in the five months since activation. In addition to the miraculous improvements in Logan’s hearing and speech understanding, his lover’s dependency on the PTSD prescriptions had significantly reduced. Logan still had occasional flashbacks or nightmares and bouts of anxiety, but Clay could say with absolute certainty that Logan was a changed man from the person he’d brought home a year ago.

  For the most part, he and Logan were able to communicate with little difficulty at home. Every once in a while, Logan might ask him to repeat a word or his answer might be a little off from the original question. One afternoon, not too long ago, the two of them had nearly laughed themselves to death at one such error…

  Clay had seen Logan come out of the bedroom with his zipper undone. He’d taken the opportunity to ogle the tempting bulge before saying, “Check your zipper.”

  Logan had made a face at Clay. He’d turned towards the bedroom and scratched the back of his head then said, “Clay, I don’t have any slippers.”

  Clay had laughed as he walked up to Logan. He slid his hand between the edges of the gap in Logan’s shorts and fondled his cock for a moment. The warm weight had rolled in his hand, and Logan had moaned. The thick flesh had begun to stiffen and Clay had placed a soft kiss on Logan’s lips then removed his hand. When Logan had opened his eyes in question, Clay had said, “I said zipper.”

  Clay’s cock twitched at the memory, and his foot pressed a little harder on the accelerator. Turning onto Arlington, he spied a car leaving a parking spot along the street. He zoomed his compact into the space with a move worthy of the best Hollywood stunt driver. He quickly locked the car and jogged into the park.

  Boston Common was filled with others out enjoying the sunny weekend. It was a perfect Sunday afternoon, and he was on the way to meet Logan, Ethan and Ryan. Their friends Conor McGuire and Rick Conner would be there as well, along with a group of others to play some ultimate Frisbee. They had all signed up to play in the weekend warrior league. To call it a semi-organised sports team was kind. Most of the players on his team were in some form of law enforcement, with the exception of Rick and Conor. So their variant and demanding schedules meant the roster changed as often as the turbulent spring weather.

  He saw the guys all standing in a small circle. The sun reflected off Logan’s black head, and Clay sprinted the last ten metres as the desire racing through his blood reached desperate levels. His arms latched onto Logan’s waist, but before he could make his move, his body was spun around in pure Jason Statham style. Logan’s lips attached to his. Large hands cupped his ass and lifted him off the ground. His tongue plunged into the warm inviting recess and tangoed with Logan’s. Clay’s feet wrapped around Logan’s calves, and he held on for dear life as reality spun away.

  Jeez, Logan’s gotten strong.

  The hours spent in their home gym had gradually turned Logan’s solid frame into a sculpture of perfection. With his body pressed intimately against each thickly roped muscle, especially the one hardening against him, Clay couldn’t be happier. He vaguely heard cat calls coming from his fellow teammates.

  “All right, you guys, break it up,” Ryan said.

  “Rick ye got that bottle of ice water?” Conor asked.

  The kiss ended with a lingering lick to Logan’s lips. Once Clay got his feet back under him, he said, “How did you know?”

  Logan smiled. “Ethan ratted you out.”

  Clay gave Ethan a little shove. “You snake. See if I help you surprise Ryan next Valentine’s Day.”

  Ethan snorted. “A strategic diversion isn’t exactly on par with a full body tackle. Besides, I didn’t want you to hurt yourself. With the way Logan’s looking these days, you would’ve bounced off his butt like a quarter and ended up on yours. Therefore, in actuality, I was looking out for you.”

  “And the defence rests your honour,” Rick teased.

  “Cute. Except I’m a prosecutor not defence attorney. I nail the bad guys, not get them off.”

  “I don’t know. I’ve heard Ryan appreciates your skills at getting men off,” Clay retorted.

  Ethan rolled his eyes.

  “How juvenile,” Conor said, haughtily.

  “So says the man who plays video games for a living?” Logan asked.

  “Ara be whist. I design games, ye muzzy! Not play them.”

  Clay raised his eyebrow. He’d been to Rick and Conor’s home when they’d had one of their marathon video game tournaments.

  “Well, I donna only play. Besides, that’s called quality control. Every game ‘as ter be tested before gonna market. Donna look only te me. He’s just as bad,” Conor said, pointing to Rick.

  Clay snaked an arm around Logan’s waist. He’d missed the banter and teasing between their friends. Winter had found most of them snuggled down in their homes, relishing the shared body warmth between their respective lovers. Or in Rick and Conor’s case, the zoo they called home, whose four walls they shared with Calleigh their wife, twin four-year-old boys and a ten-month-old daughter.

  “Hey!”

  Clay turned to see Jack, one of the other detectives from his precinct, with his hands up in the air.

  “If you ladies are done gabbing, can we play some Frisbee? I go on shift at three.”

  “Yeah, Yeah. We’re coming,” he shouted back.

  “You will be,” Logan whispered in Clay’s ear.

  Clay shivered with need and turned to see the heat from their kiss still lingering in Logan’s deep blue eyes.

  * * * *

  Clay tilted back and poured a bottle of water over his head, the cool liquid a balm to his heated skin. Man, that game had really taken it out of him. It seemed he needed to increase the cardiovascular component of his workout. He’d thought he was in good shape, but Logan stood next to him barely winded. The sweat glistened on Logan’s bare chest, and Clay inhaled his musky scent. He wanted to tackle Logan to the ground and lick the man from head to toe.

  When Clay’s tired gaze sought Logan’s, his lover actu
ally smirked, until his eyes travelled down Clay’s body and caught sight of his cock thickening behind his jersey shorts. Logan’s nostrils flared, and his eyes darkened to mimic the blue of a deep Caribbean lagoon. Their moment was shattered when Jack came up behind Logan and slapped his on the back.

  “So Logan, what are you going to do now? Any job prospects on the horizon? I mean, the Army’s done with you right?”

  Clay winced. It was still a sting to Logan’s psyche to be reminded how quickly the Army had dropped him after the attack.

  Logan nodded. “I’m through. Actually, I recently completed my certification to become a firearm and tool mark examiner. I’m fishing for a position at headquarters in the lab but, so far, no bites.”

  “Do you have a degree?” Jack asked.

  “Yeah. I completed my B.S. in Criminal Justice online while I was a Ranger.”

  “That’s great. I can definitely see you as an asset to the department with your background and experience. Tell you what, let me put out a few feelers from the inside.”

  “I’d appreciate that, Jack.”

  “Me, too, McCormick,” Clay added.

  Jack nodded at Clay. “You’re a good cop, Phillips, and I figure if He-Man here can put up with your shit then he’s gotta be a stand-up guy. That’s all I need to know.”

  “Thanks…I think,” Logan responded.

  “Clay! Logan! You two up for beer and pizza?” Ryan called out.

  Clay waved then turned to Jack. “I’ll see you at the station tomorrow.”

  “Have a good night off, you SOB. Eat a slice for me, will ya?”

  Clay nudged Logan. “He-man here can put away a few extra in your name. I’m going on a damn diet. You guys nearly killed me out there today.”

  “It’s okay, Clay. The years were bound to catch up to you eventually,” Logan teased.

  “We’re the same age!”

  “Nah, you’ve got a good six months on me.”